Thoughts on faith, musings on Scripture, sermons from Falls Church Presbyterian Church, plus sermons and postings from "Pastor James," my blog while pastor at Boulevard Presbyterian in Columbus, OH.
(Note to FCPC members: this blog is meant for a wider audience than just FCPC. The things discussed here usually speak of the larger church and not FCPC in particular.)

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Sunday, May 7, 2017

Today’s reading
does not come from the lectionary as it does most Sundays. This week we hear
the passage chosen to facilitate discussion among our congregation’s Renew Groups that are meeting in
members’ homes to discuss who we are as a congregation. This passage is from a
letter that addresses a congregation experiencing tensions and divisions. Paul
has just chastised them for the way they do Lord’s Supper, introducing the
notion of “discerning the body” in that meal. Now he continues to use this
image of “the body” as he discusses spiritual gifts.

Most
all of us have things that we’re good at, some sort of gifts or talents. That’s
not to say that the world recognizes all talents as equals. If your talent is
throwing a football, designing software applications, or doing intricate
surgery, that may bring you a great deal of income and prestige. But if your
talent is teaching young children, carpentry, or growing a lovely garden, you
will likely not have such lucrative career options.

Of
course we don’t value gifts and talents just from a financial standpoint.
Sometimes we just wish we had a certain talent. There are many talents I
admire, but the one that makes me envious is musical talent. I love music and
wish I were more musical. I tried to play guitar when I was young, but I just
don’t have much talent, and I’m a little jealous of those who do.

The
notion that some talents are better than others or more desirable than others
shows up pretty much everywhere, including at church. Different congregations
have different pecking orders. In one, deep biblical knowledge and teaching
ability might be greatly esteemed. In another it is a beautiful singing voice.
In another, certain leadership skills, and in another, gifts for caring and
nurturing community. Often you can tell a good bit about a congregation by the
sorts of gifts that get you noticed or admired.

I
suppose it’s only natural that certain gifts are more esteemed. Some are in
short supply and harder to find. If a congregation really values the role of
music in worship, musical talent is going to be at more of a premium than in a
congregation where music is less emphasized.

However
this can lead to problems. A hierarchy of gifts can develop that divides a
congregation into actors and spectators. Some people are happy just to be
spectators, but many want something more. It’s hard to feel really a part of
community if you don’t feel like you contribute to it in any significant way.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

I
suppose it’s something of a stereotype. The women are the ones still trying to
care for Jesus. There’s not much they can do, but they can at least go to the
cemetery. They’d been briefly on Friday, but the Sabbath had interrupted, and
they are observant Jews. Now, with the Sabbath over and morning breaking, they
head there again.

I’m
not sure where the men are. They’ve been AWOL since Thursday night, running
away when Jesus was arrested. Peter makes a brief appearance outside the home
of the high priest but denies knowing Jesus when people think they recognize
him, and he’s not been seen since. Perhaps the men are in hiding, fearful that
they could be arrested as well.

Or
perhaps they’re upset and angry at how things played out. A week ago they were
on cloud nine. They had visions of being part of Jesus’ cabinet with he took
power. Yes, he had spoken repeatedly about a cross, but Jesus often talked in
riddles. They had bet that Jesus was different from all those other Messiahs
who appeared and then got executed by the Romans. But now he was dead. Some of
them probably felt Jesus had let them down.

Regardless
of where the men are, two women named Mary head to the cemetery early on a
spring morning. Perhaps they stopped at the local Safeway to pick up some
flowers. That’s the sort of thing you do when you visit a cemetery.

Most
of you have probably made such a visit, perhaps taken some flowers, too. It’s
aperfectly normal sort of thing to do.
People do it all the time. People also go to cemeteries just to be there. They
are quiet, peaceful places, often garden-like. There may be benches where you
can sit and meditate.

When
I was a young boy, my grandmother would sometimes sew matching Easter sport
coats for me and my younger brother. There are pictures of the two of us in our
pastel shorts, plaid jackets, and bow ties. Some years the Easter baskets made
the picture as well.

I’m
talking about Easter a week early because when I was a kid, Palm Sunday and
Easter pretty much ran into one another. Palm Sunday was when you started the
pre-Easter celebration. The new sport coats and ties and Easter dresses would
have to wait another week, but on Palm Sunday we got to wave our palm branches
and parade around, pre-game festivities before the big event.

I’m
sure I learned about the Last Supper, Jesus’ arrest, and the cross. They must havecome up in Sunday school. Plus the Lord’s
Suppers that happened four times a year were mostly focused on Jesus’
sacrifice. But for me, Holy Week started with a parade, and then, next stop,
Easter baskets and candy and new clothes and an overflowing church singing and
celebrating. From one celebration to the next.

If
only there were not a cross between this Sunday and next. That would make this
whole Easter business so much easier. Christianity without a cross would be so much
more fun. The crowds in Jerusalem who shout, “Hosanna to the Son of David! could
just keep shouting. They could join me in exchanging their palms for Easter
baskets and new sport coats.

But
it turns out there is a cross, and the crowds don’t much care for it. Jesus was
supposed to rescue them, throw out the Romans, make their lives better, put the
Democrats or the Republicans in power, depending on how you read your scriptures.
But Jesus gets himself arrested and by Friday the crowd is shouting, “Let
him be crucified!”

We
have an advantage over the crowds. We’ve seen how this movie ends so we can
just stay away on Thursday and Friday if we want. We can skip the cross and
exchange our palms for Easter baskets and new Easter outfits.

But
not if Paul has anything to say about it. What a spoilsport. Just because
following Jesus has gotten him beaten, run out of town, and imprisoned more
times than he can count, he seems to think that all Jesus’ followers need to
embrace the cross.

Of
course Jesus says the same thing, says that no one can be his follower without
taking up their cross. He’s pretty insistent on that point, but his own disciples
run when Jesus gets arrested. They didn’t yell, “Let him be crucified!” like
the crowds, but like the crowds, they hoped to exchange palms for Easter
baskets and new sport coats.

Monday, April 3, 2017

The disciples want Jesus to tell them who is to blame for the man’s blindness. Being blind presents significant challenges to people in our day, but in Jesus’ day, blindness typically meant begging to survive. Obviously such a situation must have been the result of someone’s failure. And so the disciples ask if it was the man’s sin or his parents.

We’ve got other options. This person is poor because he won’t apply himself. That person is on drugs because her moral character is lacking. There are terrorists because Islam is evil. Things are bad because of the Democrats, or is it the Republicans? Him or his parents?

Reasons and explanations make for a more orderly world. It’s nice to know that this action tends to lead to that outcome. It helps us make better decisions and to learn from our mistakes. But we humans have a bad tendency to think we know more than we do. We over generalize when it suits us. “I’ve worked hard and done well for myself. Therefor hard work gets people ahead, and people in poverty are there because they are lazy.” Our generalizing is even true now and then, which only makes it more enticing.

I should add that this problem is totally non-partisan. It simply takes different forms depending on one’s point of view. We all have different villains that we blame for “how things are.” Perhaps our villain is a breakdown of morality or perhaps it is corporate greed and malfeasance. Perhaps it is the One Percent or perhaps it is the welfare state.

Often there is enough evidence to convince some that our villain is THE cause. And we agree that the only solution is to slay our villain. Whatever problem we are considering, we tend to approach it like the disciples when they saw the blind man. We look for villains. And very often the question of whose fault it is becomes so consuming that we forget to ask, “What can we do to help?”

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Today’s gospel
reading does not come from the lectionary as it does most Sundays. This week we
hear the passage chosen to facilitate discussion among our congregation’s Renew Groups that are meeting in
members’ homes and discussing who we are as a congregation. This passage is a
portion of the so-called Sermon on the Mount found in Matthew 5:1 – 7:29. These
teachings come immediately after the Beatitudes.

Today’s
gospel reading is a small portion of what is usually called “The Sermon on the Mount.”
I’m not sure that’s the best title. Jesus isn’t really preaching; he’s
teaching. Here’s how Matthew describes the scene. When Jesus saw the crowds, he
went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he
began to speak and taught them saying… What follows are the Beatitudes,
then our verses for this morning and then much more after that.

Jesus
is teaching his disciples, but they are not the only ones who hear. The crowds
are there as well. Jesus may not be speaking directly to them, but they still overhear.
Do they think Jesus is also speaking to them as they listen in?

These
crowds aren’t followers, aren’t disciples. They’re curious and intrigued. They may
hope Jesus can cure their ailments or help in some other way. But as they listen
in from a distance, standing at the back of the church with one foot still
outside the sanctuary, it’s not clear what will come of their encounter with
Jesus.

Jesus
has just offered his strange list of those who are blessed, favored by God: the
poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek and the merciful, the peacemakers and
those who are persecuted. The very last blessing shifts from “Blessed are,” to
“Blessed are you…”“Blessed are you when people
revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on
my account,” says Jesus.After all, that’s what happened to
the prophets before you.

And
then, in the verses we just heard, Jesus doubles down on that word “you.” “You
are the salt of the earth.” But that translation doesn’t really capture
the force of what Jesus says. Jesus literally uses a double “you,” and maybe a
better way to render this in English would be “You are the ones who are the
salt of the earth… You are the ones who are the light of the world.”

All
of these yous are plural by the way.
“You all are the ones… You guys are the ones.” Obviously the disciples seated
around Jesus hear him saying that they are “the ones,” but what about the
crowds? What about those on the edges listening in? What about those at the
back of the sanctuary? What about those who are thinking about bringing a child
to Vacation Bible School? What about those who like Christianity and the idea
of Jesus but are not involved in any sort of ministry or mission? Is Jesus
speaking to them?

Monday, March 27, 2017

I saw a Facebook post the other day suggesting that many Christians suffer from “functional atheism.” By this the writer meant that our professed beliefs don’t translate into any concrete trust that God’s power is somehow with those who follow Jesus. Rather we imagine that nothing can happen unless we do it. I think this problem is pronounced among pastors. I know it afflicts me.

One reason that some pastors don't pray as often as you might expect; prayer isn’t seen as productive. It doesn’t actually accomplish anything visible. I suspect that many congregations would be uncomfortable with a pastor who announced, “I will be secluded in prayer for a few hours every afternoon.” But pastors’ own notions of what is productive may have more to do with infrequent prayer. When there is a lot to get done, it can feel like wasting time.

It feels like wasted time because we’re shaped by a culture that values production, efficiency, and busyness. But on a deeper faith level, this feeling emerges from a suspicion that God can’t really be counted on. Yes, the Bible has stories about the Holy Spirit empowering followers to do amazing things on Christ’s behalf, but how likely is that?

It is not as popular as it once was, but I’ve often heard the stories of Jesus feeding the multitudes explained as miracles of sharing. John’s gospel speaks of “signs” rather than miracles, and he tells of Jesus feeding 5000 in a manner that does not lend it self to sharing interpretations. Not only are there twelve baskets of leftovers, but the crowd witnessing it is ready to crown Jesus king because of this momentous event.

It’s a little hard to imagine that the crowd acts as they do because Jesus convinced them to share the lunches they had hidden under the cloaks, argued persuasively that there was enough for all if everyone pitched in. This, however, has not stopped preachers and scholars from suggesting that this is exactly what happened. There was always enough food, but people worried they’d be mobbed by the unprepared folks in the crowd if they revealed the lunch tucked in their pockets.

I suppose it would be no small feat convincing folks to share when they’re worried that revealing their meager provisions could turn the crowd into a hungry mob. Still, if that’s the best Jesus can do, if that’s all God has – a convincing argument – well no wonder people don’t expect God to do much of anything.

For those of us who feel called to be the Church, to be the body of Christ in the world, surely we must expect more from God than a little cheerleading from the sidelines. I’ve never been clear on just how the mix of human agency and divine power works, but very often I’ve acted as though it all falls to the human side. If the pastor isn’t good enough, if the youth leader isn’t good enough, if the lay leaders are committed enough, and on and on, then nothing much is going to happen.

The humans look like the only gods in this sort of story. Perhaps we will scrounge up enough to give everyone a taste, but it’s hard to imagine everyone full and twelve overflowing baskets remaining.

Sunday, March 26, 2017

John’s gospel is often misunderstood and misused by
modern Christians who do not realize that John writes to Jewish Christians. His
congregation is in conflict with synagogue leaders who threaten to throw them
out over their non-orthodox beliefs. When John speaks disparagingly of “the
Jews,” he does not use the term literally (true of many terms in John). It refers
only to those powers-that-be who are threatening his community.

As he walked along, (Jesus) saw a man
blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this
man or his parents, that he was born blind?” 3Jesus answered,
“Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works
might be revealed in him. 4We must work the works of him who sent me
while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. 5As long as I
am in the world, I am the light of the world.” 6When he had said
this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on
the man’s eyes, 7saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Siloam”
(which means Sent). Then he went and washed and came back able to see. 8The
neighbors and those who had seen him before as a beggar began to ask, “Is this
not the man who used to sit and beg?” 9Some were saying, “It is he.”
Others were saying, “No, but it is someone like him.” He kept saying, “I am the
man.” 10But they kept asking him, “Then how were your eyes opened?” 11He
answered, “The man called Jesus made mud, spread it on my eyes, and said to me,
‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ Then I went and washed and received my sight.” 12They
said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I do not know.”

“Why
is this man blind?” ask the disciples. “What caused this?” Of course they
already have assumptions about the causes. When they look at that blind man,
they see him in a certain light.

“Whose
fault is it that this man is blind?” It must be someone’s fault. There’s some
reason that the only way he can survive is to stand on a street corner begging,
like those people with their signs that I pass all the time in my car. Who’s
fault is it?

The
disciples look at the world and see it a certain way, and so they see a man who
deserves his fate in some way, at least indirectly. If he hadn’t caused the
problem himself, he was the product of bad family background.

Jesus
seems not to see the world the same way the disciples do, that I do. He shows
little interest in determining fault, but he does see an opportunity to show
God’s love moving in the world, to be light in the darkness while there is the
chance.

It’s
an odd interaction. There’s spit and mud and a command. “Go to Siloam and
wash.” The blind man hasn’t even asked Jesus for any help, but when Jesus
speaks to him, he does just as Jesus says. And then he can see. Regardless of
why he was born blind, regardless of why he’s there at Seven Corners with his
sign every day, this is a wonderful moment. He won’t have to beg any more.
Everyone that knows him will be celebrating.

But
many of his neighbors don’t seem to recognize him anymore. He looks vaguely
familiar, but he’s not a blind beggar. It must be someone else.

Way
back when I was in elementary school, a girl with some significant learning and
emotional challenges sat next to me. This was the 1960s, before there was much
sensitivity to such things. She had few friends and struggled to keep up in
class. It seemed likely she would have to repeat the grade.

One
day we had our weekly spelling test, and Cathy was excited because she had
spelled all ten words correctly. I knew better. I had seen her glancing at my
paper, and I told the teacher. The classmate behind me agreed, and the teacher
had her take the test again. She got them all correct again.